Red Mist
by ShaSor
Summary: It was scary in a way that was not life-threatening, but in a way that felt wrong on so many levels- that it made him feel an itch underneath his skin. An itch that threw off his sense of touch, his sense of balance and undoubtedly messed with his mind. In that moment of fear, of not understanding anything, he decided to forge ahead anyway. OC!Reincarnation


**Not sure what to make of this. But enjoy.**

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 _ **Red mist- it's blinding me. Hate.**_

To be completely honest with you, I think my death was rather insignificant. Oh, I'm not saying that there won't be people crying over my grave, vacillating between cursing me for leaving them behind and wishing me the best in my afterlife. I'm talking about how useless I had been on the living planes.

I was someone who had it all. A healthy, caring family, good friends, no financial issues- I had a good life, not the best, but it was amazing nonetheless. My life was so amazing, in fact, that I didn't have to do a thing to survive, to feel like I belonged, to feel _useful_ even when I didn't lift a single finger. I had a great relationship with those I considered my precious people and just being with them made me happy.

I was happy.

My life was the dream of people who had it so much worse. My life was perfect, everything anyone would have wanted. I knew that. It's something I had told myself countless times before.

So why did that itch, _that lingering emptiness,_ haunt my every waking moment?

That question was never answered, or better yet, never realised, until I was forcefully ejected from the living planes into the afterlife. How did I die? I'm not sure. One moment I was standing quietly on the sidewalk, and in the next moment, I heard the eerie sound of screeching brakes behind me, then _black_ as far as the eye could see. Now that I think about it, it's pretty obvious what happened to me. I would have rolled my eyes if I _could._

Because, you see, I am not sure if I have a physical presence anymore. I think I might have freaked out if something like this had happened when I was still alive, but now that I don't have a body anymore, that irrational fear of being hurt is gone. Just up and disappeared like snow before the sun. It was like my mind unconsciously acknowledged my lack of a proper body and got rid of several survival mechanisms. Survival mechanisms like the fear people feel, the emotion that triggers our flight-or-fight instincts. Yes, I don't doubt that I would have freaked out if I still had my physical form, but as it was, I'm just endlessly floating. Peacefully riding the invisible and intangible currents that sweep me along. It feels good, better than good.

Imagine a pool you're floating in. You feel weightless as cool water gently laps at your skin, whenever you open your eyes you see a black so intense, that everything else seems to have been swallowed up by it. A vast canvas of blackness all around you, making you lose the perception of depth, the black looked close enough to touch, but it was always much farther away than you thought it was.

Sounds scary, doesn't it? But it is not, I assure you.

In that space, there is only you, alone with your thoughts and without any responsibilities whatsoever. Unlimited time has been granted, and it feels like a great weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

Time. Something that nothing on earth could fight against. Not even the sturdiest tree or hardest stone.

It was given so freely here. So generously. Time.

I was still floating, ever floating to a destination that I, honestly, never wanted to reach.

Because I still didn't know the answer to that lingering emptiness in my life. I regret that one thing the most. Not knowing.

A single pinprick of light entered the corner of my eye. It hovered in that spot for a moment, almost as if it was hesitant. It gathered its courage, too soon for my liking, and spread rapidly, tendrils of white shot across the black sky like lightning. Illuminating the place I've been in ever since my death. It was still black.

Voices called out to me, friendly and inviting and oh so painfully _familiar_. Their voices were muffled, like my head was held beneath the surface of a pond. Snippets of my life flashed before my eyes, almost blinding me with their colours and drowning me with the amount of information I received all at once. I gasped as the blackness was chased away and I was suddenly pulled above the water. And like the droplets sliding off of me, so too, did the woollen blanket that covered my eyes.

I opened them to red.

I opened my ears to wails.

And I opened my heart for the devil.

 _Red_ eyes so close to my face that there was no way I could have missed them even with my blurry sight.

 _Sharingan…_

It was the last thing I thought of before I, inevitably, fell back into oblivion. A red mist hovering ominously at the edge of my vision.

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 **So, that happened. I felt like writing it ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ~~ You see that? He supports me in this.**


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